“Then it’s a good thing they’ll be distracted by an external assault,” Rodríguez drawled. His mouth quirked in a cruel smirk, and he offered me a sardonic nod. “Enjoy being Queen of the Ashes.”
“What?” The disbelieving gasp barely left my lips before Stefano grabbed me from behind.
His calloused palm clamped over my mouth, silencing me once again. His other arm was an iron band around my middle, pinning my elbows at either side of my waist. He pulled me tightly against him, so I could feel every hard line of his body.
“I promised I would leave your home if you were good, kitten,” he murmured, his words hot against the cold sweat on my skin. “And I’ll keep my promise. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me.”
I screamed into his hand, twisting in his grip. The bastard laughed, his low chuckle rich with amusement.
“Being Queen of the Ashes doesn’t sound like much fun,” he mused, nuzzling my hair and inhaling the scent of my fear. “You’ll be much happier as my pet.” He nipped at my ear, stoking my terror with a little edge of pain. “Once I’ve tamed you.”
Muscle memory from my years of training finally kicked in, a surge of fresh adrenaline enacting the repeatedly practiced motions. I kicked back at him, taking the best shot I could manage in his tight grip. The blunt, hard rubber sole of my sensible but stylish flats wouldn’t do much damage, but I put enough force behind the blow to knock my captor’s stance wider, jeopardizing his balance.
His hold on my body eased for the space of a heartbeat, and I used the fraction of extra mobility to maximum advantage. I snapped my head back, bashing the sensitive pain receptors around his nose and mouth.
He cursed, his body slumping forward slightly. I followed the motion, dropping my weight against his restraining arms and twisting out of his grasp.
I lurched away from him, but his big hand closed over my shoulder, seeking to restrain me. Reaching back, I grabbed his wrist with both hands and pivoted out of his hold, yanking his arm behind his body at an unnatural angle as I flowed through the movement. He doubled over to alleviate the pressure, and I kicked the back of his knee, sending him tumbling to the ground.
As soon as I was free, my flight response kicked in; continuing to fight Stefano without a weapon at my disposal would only lead to my capture by an enraged madman. I didn’t have a chance if it came to a contest of brute strength. I had to put distance between us and find a way to defend myself.
I sprinted away from Stefano, his curse following me out the door and into the night. I took a sharp right and kept running, sticking to the perimeter of the vast house. Staying out in the open wasn’t an option. Stefano was only seconds behind me, and it wouldn’t take him long to catch me in a flat-out sprint across the lawn.
I immediately located the external entrance to the wine cellar. In the dark, the short, brick stairwell leading down to the basement-level door appeared to be little more than a pool of shadows, but I knew exactly how to navigate my own home.
“Carmen!” Stefano’s furious roar clashed with the first gunshot that signaled the beginning of my failed coup.
I wrenched the door open, forcing my movements to slow as I gently closed it behind me, masking even the smallest sound of the latch reengaging. I didn’t intend to give Stefano any hints to locate me.
Now that I was back inside the house, I could evade him much more easily. This was my domain, and he was a stranger here.
I toed off my shoes and tucked them behind a wine cask. No need to leave clues behind in case Stefano did find the door to the cellar. I could move more quickly and soundlessly on bare feet.
Increasing my pace once again, I darted through the wine racks and made my way deeper into the house. Just before I reached the flight of stairs leading up to the ground floor, I paused at the ostentatious, gilded bar where my brother liked to entertain his guests when he wanted to show off the extent of his wealth; the cellar contained millions of dollars’ worth of wine.
Quickly locating my weapon, I grabbed the ice pick from its usual storage space. My eye caught on a gaudy, solid gold statue of a nude woman that Pedro had favored. I snatched it up, my fist closing around the woman’s delicate waist. She wasn’t much larger than a doll, but she was weighty enough that I could do some serious damage if I swung the statue at Stefano’s skull.
I resumed my progress up the stairs, struggling to formulate a plan as I darted into the ground floor corridor.